


Trading Stories

by CuriosityRedux



Series: Dragon Drabbles Berk [62]
Category: How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Hiccstrid - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-27
Updated: 2018-11-27
Packaged: 2019-09-01 04:26:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16757923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CuriosityRedux/pseuds/CuriosityRedux
Summary: Hiccup and Astrid kill some time in their own way.





	Trading Stories

**Trading Stories**

**-**

“How long do you think until they realize we’re missing?”

Hiccup made a noise of contemplation, breath tickling the back of his companion’s ear. “We’ve got until dark, at least. That’s about the time your dad’ll start pacing at the door and grumbling about the chief’s no good son keeping his daughter out doing who knows at all hours of the night. Then after the late meal’s done somebody will actually start to wonder if something’s happened. And THEN once your mom goes to my dad to tell him you’re still not home, THEN somebody’ll come looking for us.”

Snorting softly, Astrid traced the lines in his outstretched hands. She was tucked between his legs, back pressed to his chest, and his chin rested in the curve of her neck. “The one time we totally didn’t intend on breaking curfew.”

“Mm,” he chuckled. There was a faint note of frustration in his voice. She knew he was annoyed that Toothless’ flight rig had broken and brought them crashing down. Nobody was hurt, but they were stranded, and the entire thing would have to be rebuilt.

His long fingers wrapped around her wrists and turned her palms right-side up. “My turn. What happened here?” He brushed his thumb over a white crescent moon between her pinky and ring finger.

“Scissors,” she answered promptly, remembering the way she’d yelped when she cut her skin open. “Mom was trying to get me to help with sewing and I wasn’t paying attention.” It had bled for days and left a white curve in the corner of her left palm.

She flipped her hands back over, tapping at a burn on the inside of Hiccup’s fingers that scalded off part of his fingerprints. “This one.”

He sighed, wiggling the fingers in question. “That one’s actually your fault.”

“MY fault?”

“Totally.” She could feel his grin against her neck, hear the teasing in his voice. Beneath Hiccup’s back, Toothless stirred in his sleep. “That was six or seven years ago? Before you would give me the time of day. I was in the forge working on something when you came in with your dad. And I was so distracted that I grabbed a still-hot rod without my glove.”

“I remember that!” Astrid gasped and giggled. “You swore so loud that even my dad was impressed.”

“Yeah, well,” he pressed his lips against her throat. “Your fault.”

She loved his hands. Loved inspecting them. He had large palms and slender fingers, both littered with various scars. Most from forge work, some from dragon training. They were calloused too, rough and hard like dragon scales. But gentle. The thumb and forefinger on his right hand were both a little crooked from having broken it under his hammer so many times. Little burns streaked across his wrists and forearms. He was already so used to her staring at them by now that he would stretch them out for her as soon as he felt her tug.

“Here?” he asked, pointing out her knuckles. On her right hand, they were all white with healed-over scabs.

“Beating the crap out of Snot, mostly,” she replied with a small smile. “Some Outcasts. Some poorly placed trees.”

“My short-tempered shield maiden,” he muttered wryly.

Astrid held her hands out, examining them. No, they’d never be pretty. Never dainty and flawless. Her mother’s palms were always coarse from holding an axe, but smooth and lovely on the other side. Astrid was too rough on hers.

Hiccup stretched his out too, reaching a little farther than her. “Quite a pair, huh?”

“We’re a mess,” she agreed.

He nuzzled his nose against the back of her ear and laced his fingers with hers. “Still not used to it yet?”

Fighting a smile, she fiddled with the ring on her left hand, watching how the gold gleamed under the sunlight. “Eh. I’m getting there.”


End file.
